


Half-life (working title)

by CAVal (UnlimitedSonder)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Violence, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Is it gay? Maybe., It is. mostly, Loss, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, OR IS IT, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Slow To Update, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Zuko is dead but its fine okay, like at all, no editing, nonbinary!toph, sorry about the formatting LOL, theres not violence in the first part i just want to pre tag it if i update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnlimitedSonder/pseuds/CAVal
Summary: Zuko opens his eyes. The sun is rising again, just as it did the day before, and the day before that. He watches it endlessly, as light paints the sky shades of pink and orange. God, he's tired.---
Relationships: Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Half-life (working title)

**Author's Note:**

> I had this just sitting in my laptop and I'll probably never finish it because...yeah. Enjoy I guess.

Zuko opens his eyes. The sun is rising again, just as it did the day before, and the day before that. He watches it endlessly, as light paints the sky shades of pink and orange. God, he's tired.

He places his palms to the earth. He doesn't know why he wants to, he can't feel it anymore. Maybe he misses it. He tries to imagine it again, the blades of grass between his fingers, wind blowing through his hair, sunlight on his skin. Nothing. _As Usual,_ he sighs. He'd be content with the ability to feel, if nothing else. He watches the ducks in the pond nearby swim in content circles as they begin their day. Little ducklings waddle along its edge, if they aren’t wading in the water. They are good enough for him right now.

He rises, bare feet in the grass he cannot feel, and he stretches out of habit, not necessity. He is not unaware of the situation. He certainly cannot deny the obvious. He is dead, he has been dead for many a year now, but something isn't clicking. Something is not working, and his soul is going nowhere. The thought of it makes him curl his fist in anger, in sadness, in grief. He was supposed to be at peace, that is what he assumed happened after death, but he is not. He is confused. He is angry. He is trapped. There is no sleep for spirits in the mortal realm, he's learned. Being condemned to unrest really does mean unrest.

The house behind him begins to cast a shadow on him. It always seems to tower over him when the sun rises behind it. The shade used to bring him comfort, but now that the freshness of death has worn off, so has the comfort of the house. He hasn't been in the house in such a long time; he prefers the outside, where the sun can get to him and he feels less like a prisoner. Still, he has up to the fencepost to roam, and the fencepost is not very far, nor the fence very long.

He takes a step forward, toward the house.

Then back. He can't do it, it's not worth it. He walks to the fence, and he is blocked from leaning his head over it to get closer to the ducks. He settles for sitting down at the fence and talking to the ducks from a distance.

"I don't know what happened," he says, "or what's happening."

A duck quacks. Zuko knows it's not a response to him, but he pretends that it is.

"I'm dead, did you know that?" he asks a curious duckling who strays towards where he is sitting. It seems to look in Zuko's direction but he can see in its eyes that it is not looking at him directly. He reaches out anyway. "Uncle says the dead remain until their business is finished. I bet he never had any business he never finished," he continues, "I just don't know what mine is."

The duckling warbles lightly and takes a step towards Zuko. He resists the urge to get excited, surely he cannot be seen. "What are you looking at?" he asks. He turns around and to his horror, there is a truck parked in front of the house.

"Maybe it's a neighbor. Or a wrong address," he mutters to the duckling, who begins to scamper away.

A sudden possibility rushes through the back of his mind. Zuko jumps to his feet. There's a certain heat running through him, something like rage and sadness mixed into a numb sensation. _The house he'd died in? For sale? Impossible!_  
Uncle would have never let it happen. But then again, Iroh might've been long dead. It's just the kind of thing the rest of his family would let happen. Thoughts start to zip through Zuko's mind and the rage starts to boil under the surface of his skin. The grass under his feet starts to feel warm, but it doesn't burn like it used to. His vision is cloudy and he's angry, so so angry.  
"Hey!"   
A voice snaps him Zuko for a moment. He knows it's not for calling for him, but there's something about the way that it sounds that brings him an immediate comfort. It sounds like a friend, and Zuko hadn't had many of those in life. A pause in his anger makes room for sadness to seep into the cracks, though. Zuko's shoulders slump and he leans back against the fence. The house he'd died in had been sold.   
He wonders if they'd gotten rid of his pictures. He didn't have many, just a few with Iroh and baby photos with Azula and his mother. Maybe they'd moved them to the attic. Better yet, maybe they hadn't seen them yet and when they _did_ find them, they would get creeped out and leave.   
"Hello?"   
The voice calls out again, closer than it was last time. Zuko looks up apprehensively, and to his surprise, someone is awkwardly walk-jogging towards him. He whips his head around to check if someone or something is behind him.   
"You! Yeah! You!"  
Zuko wonders if his jaw will fall off if it drops any lower. Was he visible? _What the fuck?_ is all he can think. _What the fuck?_  
He feels frozen. He wants to run, or maybe he wants to fight or do anything, but he is stuck to the ground, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. It's too late to run, he realizes, because the man is already too close to be talking to anyone else.  
"Who are you?" he asks, standing a respectable distance away but still feeling much too close for comfort to Zuko.  
"I...uh...Zuko?"  
"I...Sokka...?" he replies in a tone too genuine to be mocking, but it doesn't stop Zuko from feeling disrespected. His face must show it, because Sokka straightens up. "This is a little awkward, Zuko, but I think you're in my backyard."  
_His_ backyard?  
"I was here first," Zuko says. It's the nicest possible phrase that he can muster. Sokka shrugs. "Cool, cool. I mean, I don't want to fight you or anything. I just don't know how cool my roommates would be with someone living in our backyard."  
Zuko unclenches his fist, but his scowl goes nowhere. "I can't help that. I can't leave."  
Sokka purses his lips. Zuko swears he can see the cogs in his brain turn.   
"So you need a place to stay or did you get cursed or something?" he asks and Zuko narrows his eyes.   
"Something like the second one, I guess," he answers.   
Sokka nods solemnly. "I understand."  
Zuko is unconvinced that he does, but this is the first person he's spoken to since he'd died, he realizes. There couldn't be much harm in seeing where this went, seeing as it wouldn't be lasting long. 


End file.
